


Temptation

by LoveLikeWinter1



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, F/M, Kink Meme, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Magic, Shameless Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 15:35:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10856913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveLikeWinter1/pseuds/LoveLikeWinter1
Summary: “Teach me… Things?” Cullen stuttered, taken aback.“Yes.” Solona chuckled lightly. “I could teach you how it’s done. How to lick and suck and tease.” Solona was aware of how filthy she sounded, restless desire making her breath hitch and causing her voice to shake. “How – how to make me scream your name.”“Maker’s breath…”“Would you like that, ser Cullen?” Solona asked playfully, wrapping her arms around the recruit’s flushed neck. There was a pause then, as Cullen’s eyes clung to hers, his gaze almost desperate. When he broke the silence, his voice was barely audible.“Yes.” He rasped, and it was all Solona needed.******Written for a prompt on the DA kmeme requesting Cullen/Amell smut with a voyeurs Anders. Lots of smut, angsty pining and sarcasm (because Anders :p).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the prompt requested by a lovely anon:
> 
> F!Amell and Cullen have been making out all over the tower. As their relationship moves from kissing in darkened corners to becoming more physical, Cullen admits that to prevent abuses or dalliances, Templars are sealed into their uniform for the duration of their shift and can only get out with the aid of another Templar. 
> 
> Amell is disappointed by this as she had been grinding against his armour and thinks he means they can go no further. Cue Cullen getting Amell off with fingers (being very careful with those pointed gauntlets!) and tongue.  
> Amell is left naked and grinning but Cullen is left frustrated, jacks off to the memory of the sight, sound and taste of her when he gets to bed.
> 
> OP will perform Anders' Spicy Shimmy if Anders is secretly watching the whole encounter and either offers to selflessly fulfil any unsated desires Amell has (before or after Cullen leaves), or makes jibes at Cullen about his situation.

Surana wasn’t just a gifted mage – she was a gifted actress.  
She had worked hard to impress Irving, coaxing him into believing she was one of the submissive one, a good little mage who would do her homework, pray to the Maker and Andraste, and swoon at the mere idea of wanting to live outside the Circle, as an apostate. Solona quickly became Irving’s little pet, a shining example of everything a mage should be: hard working and docile, a servile little thing happy to be kept on a leash.

Anders knew better.  
Irving must have been bling to not see the looks she would reserve to the Templars whenever the First Enchanter’s back was turned. Solona was all swaying hips and sweet smiles, playing the part of the damsel in distress and toying with their pride. It was a dance Anders had watched her perform numerous times, and one of which Solona never seemed to tire. And it never seemed to fail her.

She wasn’t the prettiest girl in the tower – at least Anders believed he’s seen better. Yet she was fair-skinned, with bright emerald eyes surrounded by a cascade of curly auburn hair, and she definitely had a substantial amount of charm about her. Her easy smile quickly set her aside from most other apprentices, many of them pretty, but too shy or scared to truly appear charming. Solona’s body was also impossibly curvy for her sixteen years, and Anders was fairly certain she’d modified her robes so they would fit tightly around her generous hips and breasts. Anders had, in fact, tried his luck a few times himself, as he had with several fellow apprentices before. Solona sneered at that, the grin tugging at her lips flirtatiously inviting, yet it had never gotten any further: Amell shied away from the company of most mages, afraid that another’s actions may tarnish her golden reputation. And Anders was a well-known escape artist, so her refusal came as no surprise.

The Templars, however, were a whole other matter, and most were dumbfounded enough to fall right into her trap. The Templars would never tell, for fear of losing their post, and as payment for her troubles Solona was the happy receiver of all sorts of favoritisms, from extra food rations to access to parts of the library that were forbidden to other apprentices.

 

* * *

 

Sadly, Cullen did not know any better.  
He’d been swept off his feet the first time he locked eyes with the seductive mage. He met her while supervising a class of students hand-picked by the First Enchanter himself and, of course, Solona sat among them, her kinky hair gathered in a loose braid, her full lips moving almost sultrily as she silently read her book. That day Amell demonstrated a lightning spell that carried with impressive strength and precision; Cullen could feel the remnants of her magic long after her spell had vanished, a tickle of pinpricks dancing on his skin that left him shuddering in his armor. He would have never expected that magic could feel so good, and he had little sleep that night, wondering if mages used their power for less… decorous means.

The thought had been innocent enough, initially, and Cullen imagined it would soon be out of his mind. But Solona seemed to always be around the corner from him, strutting past as her robes brushed against the tempting curves of her body. She’d shoot him an alluring smile, the look in her eyes beyond arousing, and Cullen was only a man.

Soon enough he was lying awake at night, painfully erect as he pictured the curvy mage lying naked atop him, tingling magic forming at her fingertips as she brushed them against his skin, her whole hand humming with magic as she ran it up his thigh, and higher, warmth pulsing around his straining cock as she wrapped her fingers around it. He’d come thrusting wildly in his hand with her name on his lips, biting back a broken whimper to avoid alerting the other recruits.  
Sleep hadn't come easily after that.

 

* * *

 

“Daydreaming again, Ser Cullen?”

There was laughter in Solona’s voice as she took a half-step towards him. The evening prayers had just finished in the Chapel, located at the heart of the tower, and Solona was there, as usual, praying to the Maker above or, at least, pretending to.

He _had_ been daydreaming, his mind wandering into places he was ashamed of, yet couldn’t seem to avoid. Cullen felt a flush creep up his cheeks as he cleared his throat awkwardly, licking his lips. The Chapel was emptying fast as apprentices and Templars alike headed for the Great Hall, where supper would soon be served, and Amell took advantage of this fleeting moment of privacy.

“I am not an anointed Knight Templar yet, mage.” It hurt to refer to her as such, as if a mage was all she was, and not a human being with her own identity. Yet fraternization between mages and Templars was highly discouraged, and Cullen strived to maintain a professional façade. “You needn’t call me Ser.”

“You are too modest.” Amell purred shamelessly, taking another step towards him. She was close now, too close for modesty, and he could feel the faint tingle of her magic, a gentle hum that rushed upon his skin, from his toes and up his thighs, all the way to his flushed neck . It felt warm and fuzzy, and Maker, it threatened to drive him wild with desire: how did his fellow Templars put up with it? Cullen swallowed hard. “You are a talented recruit, Cullen: Greagoir _always_ says so. I am sure you will be promoted soon enough.”

Solona’s compliment made him blush. His training should have braced him for that, and he was painfully aware that he should have ignored Amell’s sweet flattering, but she was smiling at him now, and his training was soon forgotten.

“Oh? Did I make you blush, ser Cullen?” Solona remarked quizzically, licking her lips as her hand reached up to cup Cullen’s cheek. He should have rejected her, Maker, he should have known better, but instead he froze, shuddering as soft fingers brushed against his skin. The maddening hum of her skin caused him to gasp sharply as her touch sent shivers down his spine, and Solona let out a light chuckle.  
“It must be awful lonely out here for you Templars; only men to share your quarters with… Tell me, ser Cullen,” Solona was close, too close, he could feel the warmth of her breath against his lips, could hear the rustle of her robes as she pressed her body to his, although his heavy armor shielded Cullen from her. “Have you ever kissed a woman?”

Cullen gasped, parting his lips as if to speak, although he quickly realised he was unable to utter a single word. Amell did not wait for a reply, however. She grinned as she crashed her mouth to his, and he could almost taste the magic on her lips. Cullen quivered as she dragged a quiet whimper out of him, gently sucking his lower lip onto her mouth, then nipping at it playfully. He opened his eyes, and immediately closed them shut: behind Amell’s curvy body stood a towering statue of the Maker’s Bride, and Cullen could almost feel Andraste’s punishing stone eyes judging him while he eagerly wallowed in sin.

Cullen’s mind swirled blankly as Solona deepened the kiss, and when her tongue wandered over his lips he gave in with a short gasp, letting her probing tongue reach his own. She tasted sweet, if a little odd. Not that Cullen had anything to compare her with; but there was a curious aftertaste to her, a sharp tang that was strangely inebriating.

 _Lyrium_ , Cullen finally realized.

The remnants of the substance clung to Solona’s lips and tongue and Cullen found himself hungry for more, mimicking her actions and sucking at her bottom lip, drinking her in as he grew bolder, desperate arousal mixing in with a ravenous frenzy that left him panting harshly against Amell’s soft lips, snarling as he ached for more.

Solona finally broke the kiss, eyeing him wolfishly as she casually straightened her slightly frayed robes. The intoxicating taste of lyrium was gone, and Cullen slowly came to his senses, cursing and wondering what in the Maker’s name had gotten into him.

“A little touch-starved,” Amell remarked, and Cullen was almost pleased to notice the hitch in her breath, “but not bad. Let’s do that again, sometimes.”

Cullen meekly opened his mouth to protest: they could never do that again. He risked getting kicked out of the Order before even having become a Templar, a shame he would not bear to carry. But Solona had already turned on her heels, swiftly reaching the heavy oaken door and leaving Cullen into the silence and half-darkness of the empty Chapel.


	2. Chapter 2

As Solona had predicted, they met again, several times.  
Cullen was inexperienced, but sweet, and he was eager to learn, despite the flush that would creep up his cheeks every time she whispered lewd words into his ear. Solona could tell there was a gentleness to him that was rare among Templars; he treated her as well as he dared, granting her small favors here and there, but Solona knew it was out of the kindness of his heart, and not only because he hoped to get into her smalls.

Solona was almost fond of him, and several other recruits longed for the attentions she now reserved almost exclusively to Cullen.  
They would meet whenever they had the chance, often with barely enough time to share a passionate kiss. If she was lucky, they’d find a place that was quiet and secluded enough to indulge a little longer. Cullen had grown bolder, and cleverer with his tongue, thanks to Solona’s patient teaching, They would find comfort in each other, chatting in hushed whispers to avoid alerting anyone. Cullen missed his home as much as Solona missed hers, and she would offer what little comfort she had. It never took long, however, for Cullen’s lips to meet her own as they fumbled in darkness, desperately losing themselves in each other.

That night, she eagerly dragged the young Templar towards a dark, abandoned room she’d discovered the day before. Her heart raced as she swiftly unlocked the door with a flick of her wrist: despite the rumors eagerly spread around by the young apprentices, she had never given herself to a Templar. She would play the part of the charming maid, all sweet smiles and alluring looks, but she disliked them as much as any other mage did. They were glorified jailors and nothing more. Solona had shared her bed with a few apprentices in the past; women, mainly, as they were less likely to brag to their friends, and were generally subtler in their rejection of the Circle, therefore less compromising company.  
She would make an exception for Cullen.

“Look… We need to talk.” The Templar said hesitantly as the mage pushed him inside the old, empty room. A few items of furniture laid scattered around: an oaken library that still contained a few dusty tomes, a couple of wooden chairs and a stout mahogany desk.

Solona smiled seductively, walking towards a torch nailed to the wall: she promptly summoned a small flame, igniting the torch and illuminating the room. Glancing towards Cullen, she quickly covered the distance between them, eagerly pressing her lips to his and muffling any complaint he may have had. It was a hard, bruising kiss that caused Cullen to moan sharply every time Solona bit down on his lip or nipped at his tongue. She was usually gentler with the young recruit, but tonight she wanted more, and she wanted Cullen to know just how much she needed him.

Still he reciprocated, quickly getting past his initial shyness. Gauntleted fingers pressed again the back of her neck, surprisingly gentle despite being clad in iron. The metal felt cold against her skin, but the sensation was far from unpleasant. His free hand wandered down her spine, tracing the slight curve of her back almost inquisitively before travelling down her full hips. Cullen paused for a moment, hesitating, but when Solona let out a quiet, encouraging groan he growled in response, reaching for the curve of her ass and kneading the soft flesh. The hard gauntlets dug into her skin as he did so, and Solona’s breath hitched. With a sharp gasp she pressed her body to his, grinding helplessly against the metal plates of his armor. Solona slid a hand against Cullen’s armor’s shoulder pads, getting hold of his name and tilting his head until his neck was sufficiently exposed. She eagerly nipped at it, before biting down hard in a greedy gesture. Cullen yelped, then whimpered quietly as Solona’s tongue ran over the bite mark to ease the sting. When she began sucking at the same, sensitive spot she dragged a broken moan out of him, metal plates jangling as he ground against her, desperately searching for friction.  
Solona knew she was his first, and he displayed all the desperate eagerness of a first timer. He was rather easy to please and, Maker, she loved dragging those filthy noises out of him.

“Maker, Solona, we _really_ need to talk.” His skin was flushed, his breath short as he struggled to hold her back, holding her shoulders gently, yet firmly.

“Now? You want to talk now?” Solona asked, sighing dramatically. “Look at yourself: you’re practically begging for it.” She brushed a hand against his cheek, letting magic build up around her fingers as she lazily dragged them down his neck.

“Blessed Andraste, I…” His voice had dropped to a low growl, and Solona felt him shudder against her as he bit back a moan. For a moment she was certain she had won the argument. But when she reached for the buckles of his armor Cullen retreated violently, as if burned.

“Look, I… However much I want – need – this, I… I can’t.” He looked nervous now, and Solona decided to back down, suddenly realizing something was actually wrong. She let her built-up magic fade, smiling gently as she took a step back and held her hands up in surrender.

“That’s fine. Honestly, fine; I’m sorry.” She took hold of a gauntleted hand, running her fingers over the smooth metal. Cullen seemed close to tears; he looked down on their interlaced hands numbly. “Is something the matter?”

“It’s… It’s the blighted armors.” Cullen murmured.

“Beg your pardon?” Solona wondered why he would worry about his armor now of all times.

“The armors.” The young recruit said, almost too bluntly. Solona had never seen him so frustrated, and her brow crinkled in worry. His tone softened a little. “We can’t get out of them, not on our own. The buckles are enchanted; only a senior Templar can unfasten them. It’s to keep us recruits in check… Focused on our sacred duty.”

Solona was rendered speechless.

“You’re joking.” She said; Cullen grimaced, and she knew he was telling the truth. “Andraste’s tits. So you have no way to… ever? Until you graduate? Are they trying to drive you all to madness?”

“They are trying to uphold the Chantry’s holy dictates.” Cullen retorted coldly. “A Templar has no business frolicking around while carrying out the Maker’s will; most recruits are too easily tempted.” Solona could hear the self-loathing in his voice, could almost feel his aversion. “They are right; I am proof of it.”

“That’s nonsense.” Solona hissed. She hated the Chantry, hated every single one of their stupid rules and, more than anything, she hated that they could make him so disgusted at his own most natural needs. “Templars are not holy warriors above all worldly temptation; they are humans, with needs and desires and dreams, just like…” She raised her eyes to meet his, defiant. “Just like us mages.”

Cullen looked like he might speak, but Solona cut him short.

“Do they teach you that we are happy to be leashed?” Solona continued, anger building up in her chest and clutching at her heart. “That we have no right to see the outside world, because we are a mistake, an abomination in the eyes of the Maker? They’re wrong. The Chantry is wrong about us, and it is wrong about you. They’ll teach you to hate yourself until self-loathing turns you into a good, obedient little Templar, who will torture and kill mages only to repent for his so-called sins. You cannot let them.”

“I…” Cullen hesitated; Solona was seething. “You should be careful what you say around here. That manner of speech could get you killed. Besides…” He let out a drawn-out breath, obviously confused and hesitant. “Even if that were so; I don’t exactly have a choice here.”

“I could convince one of them to help you out.” Solona offered. “What about Ser Jory? He likes me, if the glances he shoots at my backside anytime I walk past are any indication.”

“Are you mad?” Cullen glanced sideways worriedly, as if checking that nobody had overheard that part of their conversation. “If he… If anyone knew, I would be thrown out of the Order. I will not burden my family with such shame.”

“So… You’d have to wait until you become a knight Templar?” Solona was dubious; Cullen looked just as uncertain.

“I suppose that is the only solution.”

“If you don’t go mad in the meantime.” Solona argued, furrowing her brow. “Still,” she continued as Cullen licked his lips nervously, and the small gesture was enough to reignite a spark of heat low in her belly, “there are still things we could do. That you could do. To me. I could teach you a thing of two, if you wanted.”

Cullen’s cheeks burned red as they so often did, and for a moment it seemed Solona had kicked all the breath out of him by daring making such a proposition.

“Teach me… Things?” He stuttered, taken aback.

“Yes.” Solona chuckled lightly. “I could teach you how it’s done. How to lick and suck and tease.” Solona was aware of how filthy she sounded, restless desire making her breath hitch and causing her voice to shake. “How – how to make me scream your name.”

“Maker’s breath…”

“Would you like that, ser Cullen?” Solona asked playfully, wrapping her arms around the recruit’s flushed neck. There was a pause then, as Cullen’s eyes clung to hers, his gaze almost desperate. When he broke the silence, his voice was barely audible.

“Yes.” He rasped, and it was all Solona needed.

She took a few steps back to offer him a better view of her whole figure, her nimble fingers working the buckles of her robes loose. Cullen eyed her hungrily, although he kept glancing towards the old wooden door as if terrified they might get caught.

When Solona pulled her robes over her head and let them fall to the ground, Cullen stopped worrying about the door.

She was perfectly naked underneath, and Solona heard Cullen gasp as he stared at her intently. His probing gaze wandered down her neck, but when it reached her breasts he swiftly looked away, too embarrassed to keep going.

“That won’t do.” Solona let out a brief, breathy laugh. “Here,” she continued, taking Cullen’s hand and slowly dragging him towards the mahogany desk. “I want you to look at me.”

Cullen did as he was bid, not without effort.  
Solona could hear his breath quicken as he took in the sight of her, amber eyes roaming across her chest. Then his gaze followed the curve of her hips, all the way down to her curvy thighs and, in between, the trimmed curls of her sex.

Solona smiled as she propped herself up on the wooden desk: it was solidly built, and held her weight without swaying.

“Come closer.” Solona purred; Cullen obeyed.


	3. Chapter 3

“That blasted cat.” Anders muttered as he descended into the dark abandoned corridors underneath the tower’s ground floor.

Mr. Wiggums, the grey tabby who had been his loyal companion for the past year had missed supper in two days, and Anders was increasingly worried. He’d looked everywhere for the blighted mouser: he even snuck into the Templar’s quarters, risking yet another prolonged stay in the dungeon. Yet Mr. Wiggums was nowhere to be found, so Anders resorted to go look for him in the darkness of the abandoned part of the tower.

Anders scrambled in darkness for the best part of an hour, by the light of a small flame that sat obediently in the palm of his hand. He was covered in dust and cobwebs, yet his search bore no fruits. Anders was about to give up when he suddenly heard noises coming from one of the dark rooms that dotted the dusty corridor. He froze, certain that he was about to be found out and hauled into the dungeon by the Templars. He held his breath, listening carefully: he could hear a girl’s voice, her playful tones echoing off the old stone walls. He knew that voice, although he couldn’t quite place it. Anders decided he must have walked in on a couple of apprentices killing time in the best way possible; he also decided he couldn’t just walk away. His curiosity had been pricked, and the idea of eavesdropping on two young apprentices doing the deed was undeniably exciting.

He let his magic wane and fade, plunging his surrounding into darkness once more. He soon noticed a feeble, dancing light escaping from a door that had been left ajar: that must be where the mages were hiding. Anders felt almost guilty as he approached; on the other hand, those apprentices had been stupid enough to leave the door open: they almost deserved it.

Anders almost gasped when he saw a Templar, still clad in full armor. Luckily he was turning his back to Anders, and the mage sneaked a peek at the much more interesting figure lying on a heavy desk. The torch’s wavering flame bathed her body in a soft orange light, although her face was obscured by the shadow of a nearby library. Anders could not see her features too well, but he did recognise the heavy locks of auburn hair: it was Amell, and the hapless recruit could only be Cullen. Anders had seen them walking together before, had seen the loving gaze on the Templar’s eyes and the sultry looks Solona gave in response. It appeared she was instructing her dear Cullen, and Anders could feel his cheeks turn crimson as he listened to her purring voice.

  

“Here.” Solona commanded, taking hold of Cullen’s gauntleted hands and dragging them across her chest until they laid splayed on her heavy breasts. Anders could hear the Templar’s labored breath as he ever so carefully caressed the soft flesh. Solona arched into the touch, moaning her approval. Her nipples were stiff from being in contact with the cold metal of Cullen’s gauntlets, and Anders felt his cock twitch: Solona looked beautiful, sounded dirty, and suddenly his breeches were uncomfortably tight.

 “Does… Does this not hurt you?” Cullen asked, and Anders was surprised by the tenderness of his tone. Cullen was only a boy, and he was rather soft compared to some of his fellow recruits, but it was beyond rare to hear a Templar talk to a mage with such gentleness.

“No.” Came Solona’s sultry reply. “The metal, it’s…” Her breath hitched and she let out a drawn-out groan as Cullen pressed a gauntleted finger against her nipple. “It’s cold. That feels – mmh – very nice.”

 Poor Cullen was visibly squirming in his armor, and Anders didn’t blame him. The heavy sighs and drawn-out moans he extorted from Solona were beyond arousing, and that armor must have felt really tight around the recruit’s –undoubtedly present- erection. The mage’s own half-hard cock ached to be touched, and Anders swiftly dragged a hand over it. He bit back a moan as his hips ground against his hand: it wasn’t quite enough, but he intended to drag this out as long as he could. After all, it looked as if Solona was just getting started.

“Here: you can use your mouth now.” Anders swallowed hard, watching hungrily as Cullen obliged, lowering his head to plant a few chaste kisses over Solona’s breast. “Lick.” She instructed. “There.” Amell added, lightly brushing a stiff nipple with her fingertips.

Metal plated jangled as Cullen did as he was instructed, causing Solona’s breath to quicken.

“Yes.” She breathed, her legs straddling the Templar’s steel armor as she dug her heels into the metal plates. “Take it into your mouth.” Solona said, and this time it was more a plea than a command. Cullen must have obeyed, for Solona’s breathing was quickening, her chest heaving under the young recruit’s ministrations.

“That’s – that’s good. You don’t have to be so gentle.” She continued. “Suck. Pull at it with – with your teeth. Maker, let me feel you.”

A broken little cry excaped Solona’s lips, and Cullen immediately froze. Solona chuckled.

“I didn’t say stop. You won’t hurt me; just keep going.”

So he did, and Solona threw her head back, her whole body shuddering and twitching as she let out a soft encouraging grunt. “Yeah; just like that.”

Cullen was growing bolder, his hand clutching at Solona’s other breast a as he ran a finger over her stiff nipple again and again. The noises coming out of her were deliciously obscene, and Anders’ knees went weak as he helplessly ground against his hand through his robes. He needed more; so much more. How in the Maker’s name was Cullen still fully clothed anyway? All Anders could think of right now was thrusting into Solona’s tight little cunt until she came screaming. He could almost see it, the way her eyes would screw shut, how she’d call his name in that filthy voice of hers. He bit his lip to muffle a groan, feeling a familiar heat coil in his belly. He was already close, too close: he grudgingly unwrapped his fingers from his straining cock, pressing the palm of his hand against it instead. He ground his hips against his hands, still pleasuring himself but eager to drag this out a little longer. Luckily he was well hidden in the darkness of the corridor, and the two lovers were far too distracted with each other to pay any attention to him.

“You’re getting good.” Solona rasped, her breath short. She pulled Cullen up until he was level with her lips again, and she kissed him. Gently, at first, but Anders heard the Templar grunt as Solona kissed him harder. “Want to keep going? A little lower, perhaps?”

 Cullen appeared beyond words, so he silently nodded his approval. “Don’t be shy,” Solona commented lightly. “I want to hear you. Tell me how you feel. Tell me what you want.” 

Cullen swallowed hard, and Anders raised an eyebrow as Cullen daringly grasped Solona’s generous thighs, his gauntlets sinking into the soft, pale flesh.

“I… Andraste preserve me, I…” Anders rolled his eyes, but Solona nodded, smiling, and Cullen let go of his timidity with a hungry growl. “I want to taste you.”

“Oh.” Solona simply said, her voice unusually high pitched. “Oh bloody fuck, Cullen.” 

Anders almost chuckled at the crude swearing, but Cullen only groaned hungrily in response. Amell let herself down onto the desk entirely, eagerly spreading her legs as Cullen slowly reached for her thighs, kissing the silky skin as he kneaded heatedly. His kisses trailed higher, and when he reached her cunt Solona keened loudly, unable to restrain herself. Anders cursed under his breath: the sound of her was enough to make his cock throb against his palm, and his knees threatened to give in at any moment.

“You – you feel good. Maker, you feel real good.” Solona rasped. “”Give me a little more. Use your tongue.”

Cullen groaned as he submitted to her pleas. Solona’s hips bucked wildly as she arched against the Templar’s tongue. 

“”It tastes like you.” Cullen breathed, inches away from Solona’s sex, causing her hips to jerk. “And… Magic. And lyrium.” Cullen was panting harshly, his own hips pressed hard against the desk in what Anders assumed was a desperate search for friction. “Maker’s breath…”

Solona moaned and Cullen resumed his ministrations. Pale fingers closed into a fist around Cullen’s blonde hair in what appeared to be a tight grip. Amell held him in place as she slowly rocked her hips, riding Cullen’s tongue in a slow, steady rhythm that caused her legs to tremble.

“You – you like that?” Solona rasped, panting shamelessly and arching further into the Templar’s touch.

“Mmmmh.” Came Cullen’s muffled response.

“Want me – want me to come like this?” Solona asked. “Fucking myself on your tongue?”

 She was driving Anders half mad with lust. His mind was racing, blood thumping in his ears as he shifted uneasily. He should have let himself come and then he should have left, but somehow he found himself too caught up in the scene unfolding before his eyes to move away from it. So he watched, painfully erect, drinking in the sight of Amell’s naked body and revelling in her dirty talking.

The next time he’d see her, he ought to try harder to get on her good side.

“You… could you?” Cullen asked, his voice breaking.

“Think so. Still,” Solona’s fingers ran through Cullen’s hair, tousling it. “I want to try a little more.”

“Here,” Solona resumed her instructing, pulling Cullen away from her sex and taking his hand. “You’ll have to be gentle. And patient: this might not go as I hope.”

Cullen tilted his head the way a confused puppy would, yet he was obviously eager to bend to any of Amell’s requests.

 “I – I want you inside me.” Solona said breathlessly, her hand still guiding the Templar’s gauntleted fingers. “There. Use your finger, just…. Slowly.”

 Cullen hesitated, and Anders winced a little as Cullen pushed his index against Solona’s sex. The recruit’s gauntlets were a mix of chainmail and steel, and th could have caused damage if Cullen made a wrong move. Yet the Templar was gentle, impossibly so, sliding a steel-clad finger inside Amell. His careful effort was rewarded by a sharp whimper from Solona, who was writhing on the desk, her emerald eyes closed shut. She took a few moments to get used to the cold metal inside her, before giving a tentative, slow roll of her hips. Solona shifted slightly to acquire a better angle, and soon enough she was grinding against the Templar’s hand, still careful despite her hoarse breathing.

“You might get hurt.” Cullen remarked, his tone rather concerned.

“I’m being careful.” Solona replied, not unkindly. “I – I still need a little more.”

Cullen eagerly obliged, lowering his head and lapping at Solona’s cunt, dragging out a flurry of broken moans and senseless words.

 “I’m – yes, right there – fuck, I’m so close, Cullen.” Solona panted harshly, shuddering under the Templar’s touch. She looked beautifully flushed, Anders realised, and his breath hitched when she grabbed her breasts, rolling her stiff nipples between nimble fingers until her moans grew louder. Her hips were jerking erratically, now as she arched against the Templar’s hot tongue, rolling her hips to lower herself on Cullen’s finger. 

“Oh, fuck...” Amell cried out, her whole body quivering and shaking as she came hard. Anders distinctively heard Cullen curse loudly, his tongue pressing hard against Solona’s cunt. Anders bit his lip, stifling a groan, wrapping his fingers around his straining cock and pumping in rhythm with each of Solona’s moans, until he had to push a hand against his mouth to muffle his eager grunts.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am officially in smut hell.  
> What has this fandom done to me =w=

Anders never saw Mr. Wiggums coming, not until the mouser started rubbing himself against the mage’s shins with a loud meow. Anders froze, as did the two in the dusty old room. The mage eagerly pressed a finger to his lips, intimating the cat to keep quiet but, naturally, Mr. Wiggums only tilted his head inquisitively before meowing with renewed vigour.

With a few, hurried steps Cullen was at the door: he flung it open with a kick, and the oaken door swung so violently it almost hit Anders square in the face. The Templar was breathless, and visibly furious. Cornered, Anders quickly turned to the only defence he had left: sarcasm.

“Fancy seeing you here, Rutherford.” Anders offered his best smile to the Templar as he gingerly picked up Mr.Wiggums. The cat mewled complainingly, but started purring loudly as Anders began scratching his ears. “Those corridors are awfully dark, aren’t they? I must have gotten lost while looking for this blighted mouser.”

Cullen parted his lips as if about to say something, but the words seemed to be stuck in his throat, so he screwed them shut again. The recruit was standing with his back to the light, but Anders could still see that his cheeks had turned bright crimson.

“Well!” Anders exclaimed, startling Cullen who had now all but frozen into place. “I’ve got what I came here for.” He held up the cat inches away from Cullen’s face to strengthen his point. “I shall be on my way now.”

“Maker forgive me…” Cullen’s eyes were wide with shock, and for a moment Anders thought the Templar might strangle the life out of him there and then. _That would be an awful way to go_ , Anders thought, dying in this dusty corridor, half-hard and with Amell’s filthy moans echoing though his mind as his body still screamed its frustration.

No, that wouldn’t do at all.

Still, Cullen must not have been in the mood for murder tonight, and he was content with grabbing Anders by the collar and flinging the mage out of his way, before scurrying away into the darkness, still mumbling confused apologies to the Maker and Andraste.

The oaken door to the dusty chamber was now wide open, and as Anders delicately put Mr. Wiggums back down onto the floor, he locked eyes with Amell: she was still perfectly naked, perched up on the desk with her legs crossed before her. Solona eyes him haughtily, arching an eyebrow in surprise, yet she made no efforts to cover herself.

“Well, this is awkward.” Anders chuckled lightly, happily letting his eyes wander all over Amell’s naked body, staring defiantly; Solona seemed unimpressed.

“I don’t believe I’ll see much of Cullen from now on.” Solona sighed regretfully. “He’ll be scared shitless about being found out. Shame; I was just starting to enjoy him.”

Amell stared at Anders reproachfully, her green eyes boring into him.

“Hey, I was just looking for my cat!” Anders retorted defensively, pointing an index at Mr. Wiggums who had curled into a ball at his feet. Amell barely shot a glance at the tabby, looking rather displeased with it. “You should be grateful that I wasn’t a Templar.”

“Oh yes. Very grateful.” Amell replied coldly, in a most ungrateful tone. “I know you, “ she continued, “the idiot runaway mage who keeps being thrown into the dungeon. Anders, right?”

“My reputation precedes me, “ Anders sighed dramatically. “And there is nothing idiotic about wanting to leave this rotting hole of a tower.”

“There is if you keep getting caught.” Solona argued, and Anders had to admit she had a point. “What are you getting out of it, except a beating and an extended stay in the dungeons?”

“Everything.” Anders grinned, and Amell looked at him inquisitively, her interest piqued. “Freedom. I slept under the stars; smelled the rain washing through a pine forest. I even saw the ocean, once.”

Amell looked up in disbelief, squinting as she obviously considered whether to believe him or not. At least he had piqued her interest, now.

“There was that time I hid in a brothel for two weeks.” Anders continued with a smirk. “The Pearl, over in Denerim, to the East. I met all sorts of people: the girls there taught me a few tricks. Speaking of which…”

Amell sat perfectly still as Anders carefully circled the desk, taking a few light steps towards her.

“I’m sure dear Cullen had his reasons for not claiming you there and then. Do Templars abide to chastity vows? Or perhaps he is simply afraid of the Maker’s righteous fury.” Amell sat calmly before him, and although she made no move towards Anders, curiosity sparkled in her emerald eyes. “I, however, am not.” Anders continued, his voice dropping to a low growl as he hungrily stared at Solona’s curvy figure.

“Marvelous.” Amell stated dryly. “You’ve been watching us like a creep, and now you want a piece for yourself.” Her brow furrowed slightly as she regarded Anders with a hint of contempt. “What’s in it for me?”

Anders grinned, creation magic already forming at his fingertips: he let it build up slowly, before directing it at Amell. Solona shuddered quietly as the spell surged through her, embracing her soft curves in a pleasant, tingling heat.

“The reason I was able to hide so long at the Pearl was because of this.” Anders breathed as he let the spell wash over Amell. “Most of Denerim’s citizens had never been with a mage: the patron thought I could be an asset, so I was being trained. Of course, that was only until the Templars kicked the door in to drag me away.” Anders grimaced. “Still, I have learned a few things, and it would be selfish to keep it all to myself. So, what do you think?”

Solona sized him up with a somewhat defiant stare.

“I think you’re all talk, mage.”

Anders mimicked a hurt expression that made Solona chuckle. She rolled her eyes as she grabbed his robes, eagerly pulling him in closer. His magic still lingered on her skin, and when she kissed him her whole body hummed with the Fade’s touch.


	5. Chapter 5

Cullen climbed into his bed wearily.  
  
He had run all the way to the Templars’ quarters, where he lied shamelessly about a merciless headache. His superior barely shot a glance at him before decreeing Cullen should lie in a quiet room tonight as opposed to the loud dormitory that was reserved to the youngest recruits. Cullen was freed from his armor and walked to a quiet room away from the dormitories: a fire had been lit to keep him warm, and the bed was more comfortable than anything he’d slept in since leaving his home.  
Yet the feather pillows were quickly tossed aside as Cullen slid under the thick woollen blanket, far too feverish for sleep. He could still hear Solona’s obscene moaning, the way she pleaded, almost begged for more as she panted harshly, her back arching beautifully under his touch. Cullen was still achingly hard, and the image of Amell’s curvy body laid bare before him was burned into his mind. He felt guilty, and shameful, but Maker did he need this. Cullen had been straining, writhing within his armor as he pleasured Amell to the best of his abilities, her filthy voice threatening to drive him mad, unable as he was to find his own release.

Cullen let out a soft whimper as he stroked his cock through his breeches. His eyes screwed shut as he pictured Solona lying above him, her heavy breasts pressed hard against his chest. His free hand roamed over his neck, tracing a path where he imagined Solona would have kissed him, from his jaw to his neck, all the way down to his stomach. In his mind she wasn’t gentle, sucking and biting and bruising his skin as she travelled down his body. Cullen’s nails sank down onto his skin to replicate the harshness of Amell’s ministrations, and a broken moan escaped his lips as he gripped his hip in an almost bruising hold.

 _“You like that, ser Cullen?”_ Amell’s breathy voice called in his mind, and Cullen clawed desperately at his thigh, nails sinking deep into the skin. He pictured magic building up around Solona’s fingertips, but he knew he could not replicate the feeling: so he wallowed meekly in the memory, revelling in her ghostly touch, imagining the faint hum of her magic rushing through him, hot and tingly and almost overwhelming.

“Maker’s breath, Solona…” Cullen rasped, unable to keep quiet as images of Amell's naked curves flooded his mind. “Please… Yes, please…”

Cullen pictured Solona reaching up for a kiss as her deft fingers undid the laces of his breeches. Cullen remembered the intoxicating taste of lyrium on her lips: it called to him, a maddening hum that spoke of chaos and promised ecstasy, its sharp tang almost burning on his tongue and leaving a ghostly bitter aftertaste.

His own fingers didn’t feel as soft as Amell’s as he wrapped them around his straining cock, but he would have to make due. He was almost shaking with need, sweat glistening on his chest as he thrust into the tight grip around his cock. Cullen’s hips jerked wildly as he imagined Solona riding him, her own hips moving rhythmically as she ground against him. He could only imagine what it would feel like: earlier, Solona had been dripping wet, and when his tongue slid inside her she was impossibly hot and tight around him. Het wetness had tasted like lyrium, too, and Cullen grunted hoarsely as the mere thought of it awoke something primal within him.

 _“Yes, Cullen.”_ Solona groaned in his mind, rocking her hips as Cullen thrust wildly into his hand, pumping helplessly as he struggled to stifle a groan. It was almost unbearable, imagining the way her breath would hitch and her voice would break every time he sank into her. _  
_

_“Fuck me harder… Yeah…”_ Solona’s voice echoed through his thoughts, and suddenly it was too much to bear.

Cullen came moaning louder than he would have liked, release washing over him as he helplessly called Solona’s name. His whole body shook and shuddered, his back arching as he gave a few more erratic thrusts before letting himself sink onto the feather bed with a soft gasp. It wasn’t enough, and Cullen doubted anything would be from now on, but he silently forbid himself from ever seeking Amell again. They had been found out, and perhaps if the mage Anders hadn’t interrupted them, a Templar would have come looking for them next.

  
The mere thought of keeping away from Solona caused a painful know to form in his stomach, yet he swore to the Maker he would not be weak, not anymore. From now on, he would endure.


End file.
